Chapter 32 Infernal Ex
Thirty-Two. Infernal ex
Patrick
I knew once Tamara and I started fucking, it would be impossible to stop.
When we got home after indulging in a little public fucking, I had her up against the shower wall as I took her again.
Then I washed and cleaned her up properly.
I didn’t want my baby mama to get an infection.
We curled up in bed and slept long enough to reboot our systems. Thank god for the weekend—we didn’t put on a stitch of clothing and stopped only for a few hours to cook and eat.
She even suggested we order in, but I wasn’t letting the mother of my child eat junk.
It was worth it though, because there’s not a single inch of this apartment we haven’t defiled.
Even the largest window that looks into the other apartment…I fucked her there.
I’m slowly learning about her kinks and desires.
She’s loud as fuck, probably worrying her neighbours with all the screaming, mewling and swearing.
I haven’t asked about the sex rooms she apparently designs and I’m curious whether it’s trickled into her sex life at all.
The idea of her being kinky with her ex leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
He had eight years and didn’t take care of her, so he couldn’t have been interested in exploring new things.
Me, on the other hand, I’ll do whatever she wants.
Including some ass play.
While I’ve never loudly talked about my sexuality, I’ve been with two guys and I know what I like.
Including being the top in those relationships.
When Tamara brings up pegging and exploring anal sex, it excites me.
The idea of being pinned down by her and fucked sounds pretty good.
I want us to do it all, in whatever ways we can and for however long our bodies will let us.
Right now, making her come is truly the best part of our sex lives.
Unfortunately Monday shows up and as much as I want to keep us in bed another day, we have shit to do.
After breakfast, and the kind of kiss that lingers at the front door, I watch Tamara drive away before hopping onto my bike.
While she definitely needs to go in—this is her chance to close on the Julia Christopher account—I was hoping we could stay home.
I even had a plan. Tamara made space for my things in her room so I can empty the guest room.
Then start planning the nursery. We sat in bed late one night while she went through all my airport purchases—a couple more stuffed animals, a onesie that reads my bad, were you sleeping?
and a few toys. We’ve got a little longer before we finalise everything and once she’s on maternity leave, we’ll have the time to really plan this out well.
Despite crossing all my fingers and praying to every god I don’t believe in, the Indian Hockey Association stuck to their decision not to cancel the tournament.
The good news is the player who was in a coma woke up.
He has to go through years of physical therapy, but he’s already in recovery.
They continued to stay quiet about the cause for the fight, so the IHA suspended them both.
It’s the only decision I agree with. We don’t need folks turning into hooligans and almost ending lives.
Hockey is important, but not worth that much damage.
I walk into the facility and greet the folks who run the place.
Coaching the team might be my job and I might have won medals, but none of this would be possible without the people who keep a place like this functioning.
Since I was a kid, my grandparents told me the one thing I must always do in life is respect humans no matter where they come from.
It doesn’t matter what their social status is, you treat them with nothing but kindness.
Afterwards, I head to the field. Since our first practice, I’ve made it clear to the players that they need to be at the facility before the coaches show up.
The minute I set foot on the turf, we’re playing and if they’re not warmed up, that’s not my fault.
This allows them to spend time together and become a team.
Which is the most important part of this whole process.
“Good morning, Coach!”
“Morning, Visser,” I call to the captain.
The rest of them echo the greeting and wave as I head towards the other coaches.
One of them hands me an iPad with the plan for today and they take me through it.
These guys, the assistant coaches especially, are folks who’ve done this before.
They’ve coached smaller teams, worked on the sidelines with national teams. I’m a player first, so even if I have the experience, I defer to them when it comes to building plans. They do know better.
The tournament starts at the end of December, so we’ve got time to get these guys into fighting shape. Thankfully all other tournaments are done, so everyone’s in Chennai until we have to be in Rourkela for the season.
I step onto the field and blow the whistle hanging around my neck. “All right boys, let’s go!” They line up in front of me. “I know these last few weeks of training have been fun, but now we’re getting into the serious work. We’re running defensive manoeuvres this week. You know what that means?”
“Practising how to defend the opponents?”
“Exactly. Being a defender is one of the most important roles in any team. You protect your goalie and strikers, you give them the opportunities to score while stopping the other team from doing the same.”
“That’s why I only play defence,” one of them says.
I smile at the way he puffs out his chest. “But we’re switching things up today. You’re going to play every position for the next two practices. Another way to support your teammates is to know exactly how the field looks from their point of view. And how best you can help them.”
“Coach, why?”
Chuckling, I gesture to the other coaches. “Your new positions will be handed out today. If you can’t play offence, then you shouldn’t play defence. And vice-versa. Being a team means stepping in when your teammate needs assistance and how can you do that if you’re not good at their job?”
A round of groans and grumbles go through the group.
It was one of my least favourite forms of training when I first started out with the national team.
But it taught me so much about the sport and my teammates.
We spend our whole lives playing one position and think we know the game.
Until everything is flipped and suddenly the world looks different.
That’s when you really become a team and everything falls into place beautifully.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I step back and smile thinking it’s Tamara. Except when I pull it out, my heart drops.
Amma
CALL ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE.
I step off the field, but keep everyone else in sight as I dial my mother’s number. They’re not travelling, even though it’s all they seem to do since they retired, so she answers after the second ring.
“I don’t appreciate finding out about my children’s love lives through the internet. First Elias, now you? I wonder what nonsense your sister is up to.”
I wince. I don’t know if there’s any way to apologise, but then it clicks. She found out online. “Where on the internet?”
“That’s what you have to say?”
I sigh and shake my head. “I’m sorry, Amma. It’s been a lot and I’ve been trying to make sense of it all.”
She huffs and my father’s voice comes over the phone. “Hey Pat. You good, son?”
“He’s fine. Can’t you tell? Knocked some girl up, goes to cake tastings and talks about marrying her. And not a word to his mother!”
Oh shit. Her sarcasm would be amusing if I wasn’t on the receiving end.
“That’s not entirely true,” I argue and my mother hushes me, but I hear my father do his best to calm her down. “Okay, I did knock someone up, but we’re not getting married.”
“And why not! Someone needs to make an honest man out of you.”
I smile at the idea of Tamara making an honest man of anyone. I’m glad my parents don’t know all of the things we’ve been doing the last two days. Or how naughty the mother of my child is. These pants are not good for boners and I’m in public.
“Pat, start from the beginning.”
My dad is always the calmer of my parents. He’s the steady rock in our family and I’m grateful for him. I watch the team practice for a minute before turning away to fix my gaze on the bright blue sky.
“Her name is Tamara Chandy. She’s Vera’s first cousin and I’m in love with her.
Yes, I do want to marry her one day, but we’re not rushing.
Right now, we’re navigating being together and bringing this kid into the world.
” I pause and blow out a breath. “I really am sorry for not telling you guys. I found out while I was in Paris and I’ve been processing it since then.
Being in Chennai keeps me close to her, but it’s been a lot. ”
They know I struggle with my mental health, but there’s a limit to what I share with them.
After my first breakdown, I keep them in the dark.
They know about Dominic and our regular therapy sessions.
It’s hard for my mother to accept that her children are having a tough time.
But she understands not being in our business all the time.
At least I think she does. Thing is, I’ve never liked worrying the people I love and I definitely don’t want my mother hovering over me for the rest of my life.
“Patrick,” my mother starts and I hear the concern in her voice. “Are you all right?”
“I wasn’t, but I am now. It comes and goes. Dominic’s helping and even without knowing everything, so is Tamara.”
“You love her?”
I nod slowly and blink back tears. “Since I was thirteen.”
“What?” my parents say at once and I laugh.
“She’s the reason I kept wanting to go back to summer camp.”
“Oh my goodness. Your Ammachi told us you had someone special waiting for you,” my mother says and I wipe away a tear that slips out. “How far along is she?”
“Almost six months.”
“How are you feeling about this?”
Here’s the thing about my mother—she’ll get mad at us for keeping secrets and finding out the wrong way, but she’ll put all her issues aside to focus on us.
I’ve never understood why she does that, but I’m starting to get it now.
The people you love always come first and you ignore what hurts you to help everyone else.
“I was terrified at first. I’m much better now. Being here with her and sorting through all of our shit has helped.”
“She’s very pretty,” my mother adds and I hear the smile in her voice.
“That’s an understatement. I really hope our kid looks like her.”
My father scoffs. “You’re a handsome fellow too. After all, you take after me.”
I laugh and my parents tease each other. I press a hand to my chest and breathe out slowly. “I meant to tell you, but time got away from me and I’m sorry. I would love for you to meet Tamara, whenever you’ve got the time.”
“We’ll be on the first flight out,” my father says and I hear Amma agree. “What about her parents?”
“Lost them when she was a kid. But Vera’s parents are her family.”
“Have you met them?”
“Not yet. We haven’t actually talked about it, but I intend to bring it up soon.”
“I adore the family and if they helped raise Tamara, I can imagine she’s a wonderful woman.” Earlier this year, my parents met Vera’s family during the ICL Championship weekend and I know it meant a lot to Elias.
She’s the best. I swallow my tears and blow out a breath. There’s some loud chatter and clacking, a ping and then my mother says, “Okay, we’ll be there at the end of the week. I’ll speak to Tessa and maybe we can organise a baby shower?”
“You don’t have to do that, Amma.”
“I want to. This is my first grandchild, Patrick, and I want to celebrate you and your Tamara.”
I swipe at my face, tears clinging to my eyelashes as I nod. “I’d love that. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Us too, Pat. See you in a few days.”
We say our goodbyes and I stand in the middle of the grassy area we use for outdoor workouts and breathe heavily.
In all of the chaos of getting Tamara to trust me again, stressing about this baby and my fucking head, telling my parents slipped my mind.
I will never not feel guilty about it, and they’re more understanding than I deserve.
I don’t even know how many hours we ran the training exercise for, but by the time I get home, I’m so tired, I want to do nothing but sleep. Tamara’s car was in her spot when I pulled my bike in, and I’m excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the evening cuddling with her.
Smiling, I take the stairs up to our floor and frown at the preppy looking asshole standing at the front door.
His white polo is perfectly ironed, as are his trousers.
His short hair is coiffed and his face is smooth, making me wonder how much time he spends in front of a mirror.
I already don’t like him and I don’t know who he is.
Twirling my keys, I get his attention. “Can I help you?”
“Here to see someone.”
“Do you plan on knocking or ringing the bell?”
“Thought I could let myself in, but she changed the locks.”
Ah, the infernal ex. “Then she probably doesn’t want you here, right?” I barely keep the condescension out of my voice.
“Who the fuck are you, man?” he asks.
I’m actually impressed my height and stature don’t scare him. Most people cower.
“I live here and I think you should leave.”
He scoffs and looks me over. I smirk. He can definitely tell I’m far superior to him in every way, even if he won’t admit it. I step around him and unlock the door. He scowls and moves forward, but stops when I block his way.
“Trick, that you?”
“Yeah, baby. Sorry I’m late.”
I look over my shoulder, my heart pounding at her smile. “Why are you standing in the doorwa—” The word freezes on her tongue as I step aside to reveal the idiot. “Kabir?”